Page 40 of Exit Strategy
“What were you thinking about?” he asked softly when my calm had returned.
“That—” My voice trembled and I hated it. I swallowed hard and bit my lips together and he shook his head.
“You know what, it doesn’t matter,” he said. “All that does is that you’re safe now, Love.”
“Am I?” I asked, finally looking up at him. He blinked and stared at me, his face as stoic as stone, carved from fine marble or maybe granite even.
“Am I safe, Kurt? Or have I just put you in as much danger as me?” I hated that. That this was a distinct possibility. A reality that went unspoken between us.
“I’m more capable than you think, Callie girl,” he said with a kind of sad smile.
I closed my eyes. “No, I know that, Kurt. I’m not doubting your ability. I promise, I’m not… it’s just…”
“Perhaps, if I may,” he said, and I nodded without looking, simply listening to his rich velveteen voice wrapped in its decadent if slight British accent. “Perhaps you may not be doubting my ability to keep you safe, but you overestimate their propensity for violence, yeah?”
I shook my head. “I wish that were the case.”
“What is it really, Callie?” he asked gently, and I sniffed and looked up at him. With a sigh, I realized precisely what it was…
I was afraid.
Not for me, but forhim.
I think I had given up on me ever having a fairy tale ending, and fairy tales weren’t meant for men like Kurt. He wasn’t some prince come to rescue his princess… but a brave knight? That I could get behind, but knights didn’t get to marry the girl. They were forever in service to the King, pawns in the grand scheme of things and pawns?
“I’m afraid they’ll hurtyou,” I said softly, and he dipped the washcloth again and ran it up my back.
“I can take care of myself,” he said with a wry grin, and I nodded, but I think he was intentionally missing the point that had suddenly become glaringly obvious to me.
“I don’twantyou to get hurt, Kurt.” I raised my hand from the water and reached out to touch the side of his face. He cleared his throat sharply and stood abruptly, handing me down the washcloth as though that had been my intent all along, to reach for the wet cloth and not for him.
“I’ve fixed some sandwiches from the cooler,” he said. “Take your time here,” he said. “They’re ready when you want some.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, cheeks flaming.
Jesus, Callie,I thought savagely to myself.You’re no end of trouble for the man and look at you. Of course, he wouldn’t want anything like that…
“Any time, Love,” he said and ducked out the bathroom door, making for the exit to the bedroom. I could hear his heavy boots as he clattered down the stairs as though the devil himself was on his heels.
I sighed heavily and hugged my knees a little tighter for a second before lowering my legs.
“Way to go, Callie,” I whispered. “Throw yourself at the first man that’s shown you even the slightest kindness,” I murmured to myself, my voice full of derision.
I mean, hadn’t that been precisely how Arik had caught me in his web in the first place?
Except Kurt’s not Arik. Not even close, and you know that…
And I did know that. The men were legitimately like night and day from one another. Arik was the blazing, punishing sun. Unforgiving. Relentless. While Kurt? Kurt was the cool light of the moon. Soothing. Patient… and sometimes just as distant.
I sighed. I was as clean as I was going to get after washing with the light and fragrant soap provided by the accommodations that we were in. Which, I had to admit, the soap here was a far cry and imminently superior to the drying, waxy, soap-scum-leaving motel bars I had been using.
I got out of the bath and let the water out, wrapping in one of the large towels and availing myself of the moisturizer available, lightly rubbing it into my skin, up my legs and down my arms, across my chest and an even lighter, thinner layer into my face. My thirsty skin soaked it in quickly.
I went out into the bedroom and smiled. Kurt had laid out one of his shirts and a clean pair of my panties on the bed. I donned them, and took down my hair, taking the extra time to brush it out at the room’s vanity, staring at myself in the mirror, and sighing, my stomach rumbling and gnawing at my backbone for lack of anything in it.
I was ravenous. I was also stalling.
I got up and went downstairs.
